


The Usual Suspects (SEASON TWO, EPISODE SEVEN)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [30]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arrested Winchesters, Canon, Episode: s02e07 The Usual Suspects, Flashbacks, Ghosts, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam n' Dean rewind tha cappin' of a lawyer n' his hoe, whoz ass fronted ta have peeped a pimp before they was capped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat local authoritizzles arrest tha Winchestas afta lookin tha fuck into they past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

Background chatta as a playa is hustled down a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dim police-station hallway up in cuffs. Pan tha fuck into tha bustlin office, where PETER SHERIDAN is on his beeper, a mug of fruity-ass malt liquor up in hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SHERIDAN**  
Under what tha fuck name, biatch? Oh, yeah, thatz mah straight-up so far. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Possible IDz up in three states dat we know of.   
(Dude pulls a paper from tha fax machine n' stares at dat shit.)  
I gotta call you back.  


  
EXT. MOTEL - NIGHT  
A SWAT crew approaches a motel room from tha outside.   


  
INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

SHERIDAN entas a invigoration room; tha prisoner aint visible yo. Dude sits down.

 **SHERIDAN**  
Well, first I thought you was just steppin up yo' game. Credit card fraud, breakin n' entering, n' dis one... puzzled mah dirty ass. Grave desecration. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But still these is a long-ass way from cappin' n' shit. Then we git a gangbangin' fax from St. Louis. Where you suspected of torturin n' murderin a lil' biatch. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat no one could prove anything, of course, cuz supposedly you took a dirt nap there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.   


  
EXT. MOTEL - NIGHT

Da SWAT crew breaks open a 2nd-floor door wit a funky-ass batterin ram; inside, SAM stops, holdin his handz up.  


  
INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

 **SHERIDAN**  
But I gotta rap something. Yo ass look pretty healthy ta mah dirty ass.   


  
INT. MOTEL - NIGHT

DIANA BALLARD advances on SAM, her glock forward.  


  
INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

 **SHERIDAN  
** So now we know Karen Gilez wasn't tha straight-up original gangsta thug you murdered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

  
INT. MOTEL - NIGHT

 **BALLARD**  
Goin somewhere, Sam?  


  
INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

 **SHERIDAN  
** But I guarantee you dat dunkadelic hoe tha last. 

Dude standz n' strutts out; we pan across ta reveal dat tha prisoner is DEAN.

 


	2. ACT ONE

INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

Da policewoman from earlier entas another invigoration room, where SAM is pacin by tha window. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch places a gangbangin' fruity-ass malt liquor cup on tha table.

 **BALLARD  
** Thought you might be thirsty.

 **SAM  
** Okay, so you tha phat cop. Wherez tha shitty cop?

 **BALLARD  
** Oh, da thug wit yo' brutha n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** Okay fo' realz. And you holdin our asses why?

 **BALLARD  
** Well, his thugged-out lil' punk-ass bein held on suspicion of cappin' n' shiznit fo' realz. And you, we'll see.

 **SAM**  
(leanin forward, shocked)  
Murder?!

 **BALLARD  
** Yo ass sound genuinely surprised. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Or is you dat phat of a hustla?

 **SAM  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck was da perved-out muthafucka supposed ta have murdered?!

 **BALLARD  
** We bout ta git round ta dis shit. 

 **SAM  
** Well, you can't just hold our asses here without formal charges!

 **BALLARD**  
Well actually, we can, fo' forty eight hours yo, but you bein a pre-law hustla, would know dis shit. I know all bout you, Sam.   
(Bitch readz from a gangbangin' file.)  
Yo ass is twenty three muthafuckin years old, no thang, no home address. Yo crazy-ass mutha took a dirt nap when you was a funky-ass baby, yo' fatherz whereabouts is unknown. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And then there be a tha case of yo' brutha Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Whose demise was, well, just a lil bit exaggerated. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Feel free ta jump up in whenever you like.   
(SAM leans against tha wall, foldin his thugged-out arms.)  
Shy, biatch? No problem. I be bout ta keep going. Yo crazy-ass crew moved round a shitload when you was a kid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Despite that, you was a straight-A hustla. Got tha fuck into Stanford wit a gangbangin' full ride.   
(Bitch closes tha file.)  
Then on some year ago there was a gangbangin' fire up in yo' crib. One fatality. Jizzica Moore, yo' hoe yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin' fo' realz. Afta her dope ass died, you fell tha git tha fuck outta mah grill wit dat bullshit tha grid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Left behind every last muthafuckin thang. 

 **SAM  
** I needed some time off. To deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So I be takin a road trip wit mah brutha n' shit. 

 **BALLARD  
** Howz dat goin fo' yo slick ass?

 **SAM  
** Great. I mean... we saw tha second phattest bizzle of twine up in tha continental US. Awesome.

Dude pulls a cold-ass lil chair up ta tha table n' straddlez dat shit. 

 **BALLARD  
** We ran Deanz fingerprints all up in AFIS.

 **SAM  
** Okay.

 **BALLARD  
** Got over a thugged-out dozen possible hits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. 

 **SAM  
** Possible hits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Which make dem worthless. 

 **BALLARD  
** But it make you wonder n' shit. What is we gonna find when we run yo' prints?

 **SAM**  
Yeah, well.  
(Dude poundz his wild lil' fist on tha table sarcastically.)  
Yo ass be shizzle ta let me know, all right.   
(pointin all up in tha cup)  
May I?

 **BALLARD  
** Please.

 **SAM  
** Great. 

Dude sniffs tha cup n' sips it as she leans over him, intently.

 **BALLARD  
** Sam, you seem like a phat kid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It aint nuthin but not yo' fault Deanz yo' brutha n' shit. We can't pick our crew. Right now detectives up in St. Louis is exhumin a cold-ass lil corpse. They're tryin ta git into how tha fuck yo' brutha faked his own dirtnap fo' realz. Afta torturin all dem lil' dem hoes. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Deanz a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass muthafucka yo. His game is over n' shit. Yours don't gotta be. 

SAM looks at her, incredulous.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass want me ta turn against mah own brother?

 **BALLARD  
** No. We already caught his ass cold. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Red-handed all up in tha Karen Gilez cappin' scene. Us playas just need you ta fill up in some missin pieces. 

 **SAM  
** Why would I do that?

 **BALLARD  
** Because I can rap ta tha DA. Make a thugged-out deal fo' you, biatch. Yo ass can git on wit yo' game. Deanz as phat as gone. 

SAM be thinkin fo' a moment, lookin distraught, then begins bustin lyrics on tha fuckin' down-lowly.

 **SAM**  
My fuckin daddy n' Tony Gilez was oldschool playas. They was up in tha steez together n' shit. We've known his ass since we was kids, you know, biatch? So we came as soon as our crazy asses heard bout his fuckin lil' dirtnap.  


  
FLASHBACK:

EXT. CAFE - DAY

DEAN is chillin at a cold-ass lil cafe table readin a newspaper; tha headline reads

 _Manz Throat Slit Without A Trace_.

SAM approaches wit two cupz of fruity-ass malt liquor n' sets one down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. As da perved-out muthafucka sits, DEAN handz over tha paper.

 **SAM  
** There you go.

 **DEAN  
** Anthony Giles. 

 **SAM  
** Whoz Anthony Giles?

 **DEAN  
** Dat punk a Baltimore lawyer n' shit. Workin late up in his office, check it out. 

 **SAM**  
(reading)  
Uh... (mutters) throat was slit, room was clean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Huh. No DNA, no prints.

 **DEAN  
** Keep reading, it gets mo' betta n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** Securitizzle cameras failed ta capture footage of tha assailant. 

 **DEAN  
** So I be thankin either some muthafucka tampered wit tha tapes -- 

 **SAM  
** Or itz a invisible killa n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** My fuckin straight-up kind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! What do you think, Scully, biatch? Yo ass wanna check it out?

 **SAM  
** I aint Scully, you Scully.

 **DEAN**  
Fuck dat shit, I be Mulder n' shit. Yo ass be a red-headed biatch. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   


  
INT. POLICE STATION

SAM is continuin his story.

 **SAM  
** Woulda been kinda hard fo' Dean ta bust a cap up in Tony, thankin bout we weren't up in hood all up in tha time. 

 **BALLARD  
** So tell me what tha fuck happened next. 

 **SAM**  
Okay, uh, thatz when we went ta peep Karen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch was barely holdin it together n' shit. Us playas just wanted ta be there fo' her n' shit. Yo ass know?  


  
FLASHBACK:

INT. GILES HOUSE - DAY

KAREN, a lil' biatch wit dark afro n' dark-framed glasses, is chillin up in her home, on tha verge of tears. Dat hoe lookin at some forms dat SAM n' DEAN, dressed as insurizzle company hommies, have given her n' shit. 

 **KAREN  
** Insurance. I straight-up forgot bout tha insurance. 

 **SAM  
** We straight-up sorry ta bother you up in dis biatch yo, but tha company is required ta conduct its own investigation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **KAREN  
** Sure. 

 **SAM  
** Okay. Um. If you could just tell our asses anythang you remember bout tha night yo' homeboy died. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **KAREN  
** Uh, Tony n' I was just supposed ta have dinner n' shiznit yo. Dude called n' holla'd da thug was havin computa shits n' that, dat dat schmoooove muthafucka had ta work late. That was dat shit.

 **SAM  
** Do you have any scam whoz ass could have done dis ta him?

 **KAREN  
** No. Fuck dat shit, itz like I holla'd all up in tha police, I, I have no idea.

 **DEAN  
** Did Tony mention anything, you know, unusual ta yo slick ass, biatch? In tha minutes before his fuckin lil' dirtnap?

 **KAREN  
** Unusual...

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, like strange?

 **KAREN**  
(bobbin her head)  
Strange?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know, Karen, weird, biatch? Weird noises, uh, visions, anythang like that?

SAM clears his cold-ass throat n' gives DEAN a look; KAREN turns ta SAM, whoz ass turns on his concerned-face again, then blasts DEAN another look as she glances down.

 **KAREN  
** Dude had a nightmare tha dizzle before da ruffneck died.

 **SAM  
** What kind of a nightmare?

 **KAREN  
** Uh, da perved-out muthafucka holla'd dat da thug raised up in tha middle of tha night n' there was a biatch standin all up in tha foot of tha bed, his thugged-out lil' punk-ass blinked n' dat biiiiatch was gone, I mean, dat shiznit was just a nightmare. 

 **DEAN  
** Did da perved-out muthafucka say what tha fuck she looked like?

 **KAREN  
** What tha hell difference do it make what tha fuck she looked like?

 **DEAN  
** Uh, itz just, our, our companyz straight-up thorough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. 

 **KAREN**  
Dude holla'd dat biiiiatch was pale, n' dat freaky freaky biatch had dark red eyes.   


  
**SAM (V.O.)**  
So I gave Karen a hug, holla'd at her ta booty-call me if she needed anything,  


INT. POLICE STATION

 **SAM  
**... n' dat was dat shit. End of story. 

 **BALLARD  
** Sam, I be tryin ta help you here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. But you have gots ta be real wit mah dirty ass. Now our crazy asses have a eyewitness. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Someone whoz ass saw two pimps fittin yo' n' yo' brotherz description breakin tha fuck into Giles' crib.

 **SAM**  
Okay, look, Karen called our asses later, holla'd dat there was some shiznit dat dat biiiiatch wanted from Tonyz office yo, but tha five-o weren't lettin her up in -- like, a picture of tha two of dem up in Paris, n' some other stuff. Look, dat shiznit was wack ta enta a cold-ass lil crime scene yo, but she gave our asses tha key hommie!  


  
FLASHBACK:

EXT. GILES' OFFICE - NIGHT

SAM picks tha lock on GILES crib n' he n' DEAN enter, duckin under tha five-o tape. SAM shines his wild lil' flashlight on a pool of blood on tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **SAM**  
Hey fo' realz. Anthony Giles' body was found right bout here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.   
(reading)  
"Throat slit so deep part of his spinal cord was visible."

 **DEAN**  
(whistling)  
What do you think, biatch? Vengeful spirit, biatch? Underlinin vengeful?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, maybe. I mean da ruffneck did peep dat biatch all up in tha foot of his bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

DEAN picks up a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shizzle of paper lyin on tha desk.

 **DEAN  
** Take a peep all dis bullshit. 

SAM takes tha paper n' shit. Well shiiiit, it gotz nuff small-font printin of tha word "danashulps" repeated over n' over ta fill tha page.

 **SAM  
** Dana Shulps fo' realz. A name?

DEAN findz another paper n' shit. 

 **DEAN**  
I dunno yo, but itz everywhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.   
(grinning)  
Well, all work n' no play make Jack a thugged-out dull boy. 

SAM shines his wild lil' flashlight down on tha glass table up in front of him, pausin yo. Dude breathes on tha glass, revealin tha same lettas - "DANASHULPS"- impressed up in tha surface. 

 **SAM  
** Wow. I'd say we've officially crossed over tha fuck into weird. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** Maybe Gilez knew her muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Or maybe itz tha name of our pale red-eyed mystery girl. 

 **DEAN  
** Well. Letz peep what tha fuck we can see. 

LATER, they is frustrated n' have found not a god damn thang afta searchin all up in all accessible paper n' computa filez up in tha crib. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM be all up in tha desktop computer.

 **DEAN  
** Therez not a single mention of a Dana Shulps anywhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Therez not a D. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shulps. Or any other kind of friggin' Shulps. 

 **SAM  
** Great. 

 **DEAN  
** What have you got?

 **SAM  
** Nothing. No Dana Shulps has eva lived or took a dirt nap up in Baltimore up in tha last fifty muthafuckin years at least. 

 **DEAN  
** So what tha fuck now?

 **SAM  
** Well, I be thinkin I be pretty close ta crackin Giles' password. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Maybe there be a suttin' up in his thugged-out lil' underground files, you know?

 **DEAN  
** By close you mean...

 **SAM  
** Thirty minutes, maybe?

 **DEAN**  
(glances at his watch)  
Awesome. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So I guess I just git to, uh, hang out.   
(muttering)  
Awesome. 

SAM types, concentrating. DEAN sits down, annoyed, n' starts makin clickin n' grill-fart noises. 

 **SAM  
** Dude, seriously. 

 **DEAN  
** All right, I'ma go rap ta Karen again, peep if she knows anythang bout dis Dana Shulps, huh?

 **SAM  
** Great.

 **DEAN**  
Keep going, Sparky.  


  
END FLASHBACK

INT. POLICE STATION

 **SAM  
** Then Dean went back ta Karenz place ta check up on her n' shit. I mean, you know, dat freaky freaky biatch had been pretty upset earlier n' shit. 

 **BALLARD  
** So why didn't you go wit him?

 **SAM**  
I just went back ta tha motel.  
(beat)  
How'd you know I was there, by tha way?

 **BALLARD  
** We found tha motel matchbook on yo' brutha when we arrested his muthafuckin ass. Letz quit foolin around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Now you was wit yo' brutha tha whole time you was up in Baltimore. Why separate now, biatch? Because yo' brutha left you, biatch. To go cappin' Karen.

 **SAM  
** Dude didn't bust a cap up in mah playas.

 **BALLARD**  
(hittin tha table)  
I heard tha 9-1-1 call! Karen was terrified. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch holla'd one of mah thugs was up in tha house.  


FLASHBACK:

INT. GILES HOUSE - NIGHT

KAREN is chillin on tha sofa up in pajamas, crying. Da TV is on, low fo' realz. As da hoe blows her nose, dat freaky freaky biatch hears a gangbangin' figure pass by. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch takes off her glasses ta rub her eyes; she pauses, then puts dem back on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. Across tha room up in a mirror her big-ass booty sees a pimply figure. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch yelps. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch turns on tha light n' tha figure is gone. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch gets up, panicked, n' goes tha fuck into tha hallway, then tha fuck into tha bedroom n' shuts tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch calls 9-1-1.

 **OPERATOR  
** Yo muthafucka, emergency skillz.

 **KAREN  
** Hello, biatch? I be thinkin I saw one of mah thugs up in mah house.

 **OPERATOR  
** What tha fuck iz yo' address?

 **KAREN**  
It aint nuthin but 421 Clinton Avenue. Please, can you -   
(There be a cold-ass lil click, n' tha call is disconnected. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. )  
Hello?

Da printa on her desk flicks on n' starts printin up tha same repeated pattern as before: "danashulpsdanashulpsdanashulps". KAREN fumblez fo' a gangbangin' flashlight, turns, n' sees tha pimp behind her - itz a lil' blond biatch wit drippin red eyes. KAREN screams.


	3. ACT TWO

EXT. GILES HOUSE - NIGHT

DEAN arrives at KAREN'S n' knocks on tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **DEAN  
** Karen, you up in there?

DEAN looks around, then picks tha lock n' entas yo. Dude tries tha light by tha door yo, but it don't work yo. Dude goes further tha fuck into tha house, up tha stairs n' tha fuck into tha bedroom yo. Dude pushes open tha door n' sees KAREN lyin on tha floor up in a pool of her own blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Her throat is slit deeply yo. Dude sees tha pages from tha printa n' frowns. 

 **DEAN  
** Seriously, what tha fuck tha hell?

DEAN kneels down by KAREN'S body, noticin bruises on her wrists yo. Dude takes one wrist up in his hand.

 **POLICEWOMAN  
** Freeze.

Behind DEAN, two cops have they glocks trained on his muthafuckin ass.

 **POLICEWOMAN**  
Stay on yo' knees yo. Handz where I can peep dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Now!  
(Dude complies.)  
Cuff his muthafuckin ass.   


END FLASHBACK

INT. POLICE STATION

SHERIDAN is chillin up in a observation room from which his schmoooove ass can peep DEAN, handcuffed ta a table. BALLARD enters.

 **BALLARD  
** Yo ass gettin anywhere wit him?

 **SHERIDAN  
** No. Just a shitload of wise-ass remarks. You?

 **BALLARD  
** Samz rap matches Deanz ta tha last detail. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Hmm. Yeah, well, these muthafuckas is good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! I be bout ta give 'em dis shit. 

 **BALLARD  
** If our phat asses don't git Sam ta flip our crazy asses have not a god damn thang but a shitload of circumstantial evidence. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Hey. We've gots Dean all up in tha crime scene wit blood on his hands. Juries have convicted fo' less.

 **BALLARD  
** Yeah yo, but, I mean, wherez tha cappin' weapon, biatch? Whatz tha motive, biatch? Yo ass rap bout reasonable doubt.

 **SHERIDAN**  
Diana.  
(Dude touches her face)  
Do you have reasonable doubt, biatch? We keep leanin on these muthafuckas, one of dem will tumble fo' realz. And don't forget bout St. Louis. I be spittin some lyrics ta you, biatch. This Dean muthafucka is our muthafucka. 

 **BALLARD  
** I know Tony Gilez was a gangbangin' playa of yours. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Yeah yo. Dude was, da thug was a phat playa yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. 

 **BALLARD  
** Look, n' I know you wanna clean dis mess up quick. But come on, Tony knew a shitload of criminal types, I mean, maybe our laid-back asses just...

 **SHERIDAN  
** Criminal types, biatch? Dude was a thugged-out defense lawyer, fo' godsakes, of course he knew criminal types.

 **BALLARD  
** All right, letz git back at 'em.

 **SHERIDAN**  
Fuck dat shit, you know what, biatch? Let 'em stew up in they juices fo' a funky-ass bit. Come here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.   
(Dude kisses her muthafuckin ass.)  


  
INT. DEAN'S INTERROGATION ROOM

DEAN, still handcuffed ta tha table, is mutterin ta his dirty ass, thinking.

 **DEAN  
** Dana Shulps, Dana Shulps, Dana  **Shulps**  Dana,  **Dana**  Shulps...  


  
INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM'S INTERROGATION ROOM

SAM pulls a pad of paper n' a pen ta his ass n' writes "DANA SHULPS" up in block letters, frownin up in thought.   


  
INT. DEAN'S INTERROGATION ROOM

 **DEAN**  
Maybe it aint a name. Maybe it aint a name.  


  
INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM'S INTERROGATION ROOM

 **SAM  
** Anagram, maybe?

Dude writes "ANDA SH..." underneath tha straight-up original gangsta line, then continues.   


  
INT. DEAN'S INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

Head down, DEAN continues ta mutta ta his dirty ass. Therez a knock on tha door; he looks up fo' realz. A smilin middle-aged playa pokes his head in.

 **KRAUS  
** Mista Muthafuckin Winchester?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **KRAUS  
** I be Jeffrey Kraus. I be wit tha hood defenderz crib. I be yo' lawyer.

 **DEAN**  
(deadpan)  
Oh. Thank god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be saved. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!   
(as Kraus sits...)  
Yo, could I, uh, loot a pen from yo slick ass, biatch? Some paper?

 **KRAUS**  
Sure.  
(he handz over tha shit n' Dean starts scribbling)  
Uh, well, tha five-o aint found a weapon yet. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So thatz good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! But, uh, they gots yo' prints fo' realz. And literally blood on yo' handz fo' realz. And wit yo' five-o record, uh...  
(seein dat DEAN is ignorin him)  
Mista Muthafuckin Winchester, biatch? What is you bustin?

 **DEAN  
** I be thinkin itz a anagram. 

 **KRAUS  
** A what?

 **DEAN  
** An anagram. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Same letters, different lyrics. 

Da pad of paper now reads:  
_DNA SHULPS_  
DAN SHULPAS  
LAND PUSHAS  
SUPASH LAND  
PUSH LANDAS  
PLUSH DANAS

 **DEAN  
** Uh, do me a gangbangin' favor, biatch? See if you recognize any of these lyrics, you know, local names, places, anythang like that?

 **KRAUS  
** Do you KNOW how tha fuck straight-up these charges are?

 **DEAN  
** I be handcuffed ta a table. Yeah, I git it yo. Humor mah dirty ass. Take a quick look. 

KRAUS pulls tha pad over ta his muthafuckin ass. 

 **KRAUS  
** Well, S-U-P, I don't give a fuck bout dat yo, but Ashland be a street name. Not far from here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **DEAN  
** A street. 

DEAN takes tha pad back, tears off a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shizzle of paper n' starts freestylin again.

 **KRAUS  
** Letz start wit where you was tha night Anthony Gilez died. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass betta git up in ta peep mah brother?

 **KRAUS  
** Mista Muthafuckin Winchester, you could be facin tha dirtnap penalty here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **DEAN**  
Yo, props fo' tha law review, Matlock. But. If you wanna help mah dirty ass...  
(holdin up tha folded note he just finished)  
I need you ta peep mah brutha n' shit.   


  
INT. POLICE STATION - DAY

BALLARD is freestylin a email at her computer n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly tha repeatin strang  _DANASHULPS_  starts scrollin across tha screen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch looks around, nervous.   


  
INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM'S INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

SAM is lookin all up in tha note DEAN busted him, which reads:

 _HILTS-_  
IT'S A  STREET  
ASHLAND.  
-MCQUEEN

 **KRAUS  
** I hope thatz meaningful naaahhmean, biatch? But I'd like ta say shit bout yo' case now, nahmeean, biatch? 

 **SAM**  
(gesturin ta tha chair)  
Sure thang, Matlock. 

 **KRAUS**  
Yo ass two straight-up is brothers, aren't yo slick ass?  
(sitting)  
Now fo' realz. As you know, tha DA might be interested in...

A knock on tha door is quickly followed by BALLARD, whoz ass addresses KRAUS.

 **BALLARD**  
We need you, biatch. With tha other one.   


  
INT. DEAN'S INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

Yo, nuff muthafuckin others have crowded tha fuck into tha observation room outside where DEAN is bein held; across from his seat a gangbangin' finger-lickin' digital camera has been set up. BALLARD n' KRAUS enter n' shit. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Counselor, biatch? Yo crazy-ass pimp decided ta confess. 

 **KRAUS  
** Mista Muthafuckin Winchester, biatch? I'd advise against dat strongly. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Talk directly tha fuck into tha camera, first statin yo' name fo' tha record.

DEAN clears his cold-ass throat n' leans forward, lookin tha fuck into tha camera.

 **DEAN  
** Hoes call me Dean Winchesta n' shit. I be a Aquarius. I trip off sunsets, long strutts on tha beach, n' frisky dem hoes. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And I did not bust a cap up in mah playas. But I know whoz ass done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Or rather what tha fuck done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Of course it can't be fo' sure, cuz our investigation was interrupted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. But our hustlin theory was dat our slick asses lookin fo' some kind of vengeful spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither.

 **BALLARD  
** Excuse me son?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know, Casper tha bloodthirsty pimp?

In tha observation room, tha spectators start laughing.

 **DEAN  
** Tony Gilez saw dat shit. I be bout ta bet you chedda scrilla Karen did like a muthafucka. But see, tha bangin-ass thang is tha word it leaves behind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! For some reason itz tryin ta tell our asses something. But communicatin across tha vale, it ain't easy as fuck . Yo ass know, sometimes tha spirits, they, they git thangs jumbled. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass remember "REDRUM". Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Same concept. Yo ass know, it's, uh, maybe word fragments... other times, itz anagrams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, at first we thought dis was a name, Dana Shulps. But now we be thinkin itz a street fo' realz. Ashland. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Whateverz goin on, I be bout ta bet you it started there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

DEAN spreadz his handz n' smiles.

 **SHERIDAN  
** Yo ass arrogant bastard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Tony n' Karen was phat people, n' you makin jokes.

 **DEAN  
** I aint clownin, Ponch. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Yo ass murdered dem up in cold blood just like dat hoe up in St. Louis. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah. That wasn't me either n' shit. That was a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shape-shifta creature dat only looked like mah dirty ass.

Dude smilez all up in tha camera. SHERIDAN loses his cold-ass temper n' hauls DEAN up by tha collar, slammin his ass against tha wall. 

 **BALLARD  
** Pete, dat is enough!

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass axed fo' tha real deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Lock his thugged-out ass up.

Another cop takes over, shovin DEAN face-first against tha wall n' handcuffin his muthafuckin ass.  


  
INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM'S INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

SHERIDAN n' BALLARD return ta find SAM gone; tha fruity-ass malt liquor n' tha note is still on tha table.

 **SHERIDAN  
** What tha hell, biatch? Where is he?

SHERIDAN goes ta tha window, which is open, n' looks up - itz a (four?) rap drop wit no visible fire escape nearby. BALLARD sees tha note on tha table n' picks it up.

 **SHERIDAN  
** What'd da ruffneck do, biatch? Da fire escapez way over... what?

 **BALLARD  
** These two muthafuckas.

She handz his ass tha note. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Hilts n' McQueen?

 **BALLARD**  
Hilts is Steve McQueenz characta up in tha Great Escape.  


  
INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

BALLARD entas tha bathroom n' tha lights flicker n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch sighs fo' realz. As she approaches tha sink, it turns on by itself. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch recoils fo' realz. All tha faucets start pourin up bangin' water, steam rising. In tha foggin mirror tha lettas  _DANASHULPS_  is formed; BALLARD scrubs dem away ta reveal THE GHOST yo. Her throat is slit deeply, her eyes deep red. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch strugglez ta talk. 

 


	4. ACT THREE

INT. DEAN'S LOCKUP ROOM

DEAN is handcuffed ta another table as BALLARD enters, nervous. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch shuts tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **DEAN  
** Can we make dis quick, biatch? I be a lil tired, itz been a long-ass day, you know, wit yo' partner beatin tha livin piss outta me n' all. 

 **BALLARD  
** I wanna know mo' bout dat shiznit you was poppin' off bout earlier n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Time Life. Mysteriez of tha Unknown. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Look it up.

 **BALLARD  
** Letz pretend fo' tha moment you not entirely insane.

 **DEAN  
** Mmm.

 **BALLARD  
** What would one of these thangs be bustin here?

 **DEAN  
** A vengeful spirit, biatch? Well, they pimped by violent dirtnaps fo' realz. And then they come back fo' a reason, probably a nasty one. Like revenge on tha playas dat hurt 'em.

 **BALLARD  
** And uh, these, they capable of cappin' people?

As she rubs her neck, DEAN notices suttin' on her wrist. 

 **DEAN  
** Where did you git that?

She pulls up her sleeves ta reveal deep bruises, like dem on KAREN'S wrists.

 **BALLARD  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. It, it wasn't there before.

 **DEAN  
** You've peeped it, aint yo slick ass, biatch? Da spirit?

 **BALLARD  
** How tha fuck did you know?

 **DEAN**  
Because Karen had tha same bruises on her wrists fo' realz. And I be willin ta bet dat if you peep Giles' autopsy photos he gots 'em too, itz gots suttin' ta do wit dis spirit, I... I don't give a fuck what.  
(Bitch turns away, lookin tha fuck into tha mirror)  
I know. Yo ass be thinkin you goin crazy. But letz skip dat part, shall we, biatch? Because tha last two playas whoz ass saw dis thang, biatch? Died, pretty soon afta n' shit. Yo ass hear me son?

 **BALLARD  
** Yo ass be thinkin I be goin ta take a thugged-out dirt nap.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass need ta git all up in Sam yo. Dude bout ta help. 

 **BALLARD  
** Yo ass is givin yo' brutha up. 

 **DEAN**  
Go ta tha straight-up original gangsta motel listed up in tha yellow pages. Look fo' Jim Rockford - itz how tha fuck we find each other when we separated. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Now you can arrest his ass if you want. Or you can let his ass save yo' game.   


  
INT. MOTEL - NIGHT

SAM is chillin at a motel desk, goin all up in files. There be a knock on tha door; he opens it ta find BALLARD; dat schmoooove muthafucka hesitates, her big-ass booty shrugs n' comes in.

BALLARD shows SAM her wrists.

 **SAM  
** These flossed up afta you saw it?

 **BALLARD  
** Yeah, I guess. 

 **SAM  
** All right. Yo ass is goin ta gotta tell me exactly what tha fuck you saw. 

 **BALLARD  
** Yo ass know, I must be losin mah mind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass be a gangbangin' fugitive. I should be arrestin you, biatch. 

 **SAM**  
All right. Well, you know what, biatch? Yo ass can arrest me later, all right, biatch? Afta you live all up in all dis bullshit. But right now you've gotta rap ta mah dirty ass. Okay?  
(Bitch nods)  
Okay, pimped out. Now, dis spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. What done did it look like?

 **BALLARD  
** Bitch was, um, straight-up pale, n' her throat was cut, n' her eyes, they was like, dis deep dark red, biatch? It rocked up like dat biiiiatch was tryin ta rap ta mah dirty ass. But dat thugged-out biiiatch couldn't. Dat shiznit was just... a shitload of blood.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know what, biatch? Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I been researchin every last muthafuckin hoe thatz eva took a dirt nap or gone missin from Ashland Street.

Dude leadz her over ta a table, where he gathers up a stack of crime scene photos.

 **BALLARD  
** How'd you git them, biatch? Those is from crime scenes, n' bookin photos. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass have yo' thang, I have mine yo. Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I need you ta look all up in these, tell me if you recognize mah playas. 

BALLARD sits n' flips all up in tha stack. On tha third photo, a lil' biatchz bookin photo, her big-ass booty stops. 

 **BALLARD  
** This is her n' shit. I be shizzle of dat shit. 

 **SAM  
** Claire Becker, biatch? Twenty eight muthafuckin years old, disappeared bout eight or nine months ago.

 **BALLARD  
** But I don't even know her n' shit. I mean, why would dat thugged-out biiiatch come afta me son?

 **SAM  
** Well, before her dirtnap, dat biiiiatch was caught at it twice. For dealin heroin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass eva work narcotics?

 **BALLARD  
** Yeah, Pete n' I done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Before Homicide.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass eva bust her?

 **BALLARD  
** Not dat I remember n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** It say dat dat biiiiatch was last peeped enterin 2911 Ashland Street. Popo searched tha place, didn't find anything. Guess we gotta check it up ourselves. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See if we can find her body. 

 **BALLARD  
** What?

 **SAM  
** Well, we gotta salt n' burn her bones. It aint nuthin but tha only way ta put her spirit ta rest. 

 **BALLARD**  
Of course it is.  


  
INT. 2911 ASHLAND STREET - NIGHT

SAM leadz BALLARD tha fuck into a Dark And Creepy Warehouse. 

 **BALLARD  
** So what tha fuck exactly is our slick asses lookin for?

 **SAM  
** I be bout ta let you know when we find dat shit. 

They split up, SAM checkin up a gangbangin' flight of stairs n' BALLARD continuin on tha lower level. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch turns towardz a window n' sees CLAIRE, standin by tha window. Da pimp strugglez ta talk.

 **BALLARD  
** Sam, biatch? Sam, biatch? Sam!

As SAM runs down tha stairs ta BALLARD, tha pimp disappears. 

 **SAM  
** Yo dawwwwg! Yo, I be here, what tha fuck is it, biatch? What happened?

 **BALLARD  
** Claire...

 **SAM  
** Where?

 **BALLARD  
** She, dat biiiiatch was here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **SAM  
** Did she battle yo slick ass?

 **BALLARD**  
No. Fuck dat shit, dat biiiiatch was just like, reachin up ta mah dirty ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch was over there by tha window.   
(Da window is blocked by a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shelvin unit.)  
Here, help me move all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** All right.

They shove tha shelves aside, revealin tha window. Well shiiiit, it is labeled from tha outside:

_ASHLAND SUP(plies)_

**BALLARD  
** Our lil mystery word. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

They turn ta peep a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shadow on tha opposite wall, castin tha lyrics tha fuck into clear reflection.

 **SAM  
** Now tha extra lettas make sense.

SAM pulls up his EMF reader n' approaches tha opposite wall.

 **BALLARD  
** What tha fuck iz that?

 **SAM  
** Spirits n' certain remains give off electromagnetic frequencies. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! 

 **BALLARD  
** So if Clairez body was here, dat would indicate that?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Well, thatz tha theory.

Da EMF reader purrs as da thug waves it over tha brick wall yo. Dude turns.

SAM starts breakin all up in tha wall wit a sledgehammer n' shit. When he knocked up a sizable hole, he pokes his wild lil' flashlight inside.

 **SAM**  
Yeah. Yeah, there be a thugged-out definitely suttin' up in there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.   
(Dude starts breakin all up in tha wall wit elbows n' fists.)  
Yo ass know, biatch? This is botherin mah dirty ass. 

 **BALLARD  
** Well, yo ass is diggin up a cold-ass lil corpse. 

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, not dis shit. That's, uh, thatz pretty par fo' tha course, actually.

 **BALLARD  
** Then what?

 **SAM**  
It aint nuthin but just, I mean, no vengeful spirit I've eva tussled wit wanted ta be wasted, so why tha hell would Claire lead our asses ta her remains, biatch? It don't make any sense.   
(Dat punk fucked up open most of tha wall.)  
All right, here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Give me a hand.

Together, they pull up a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shroud-wrapped body n' place it on tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAm pulls up a pocket knife n' cuts tha ropes holdin tha shroud together, uncoverin her n' shit. BALLARD holdz up her wrists.

 **SAM  
** Her wrists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Yeah, they'd be bruised just like yours?

BALLARD notices a phat gold rope on tha corpse n' touches it cautiously.

 **SAM  
** That phat gold rope mean suttin' ta yo slick ass?

 **BALLARD**  
I've peeped it before. It aint nuthin but rare. Dat shiznit was custom made over on Carson street.  
(she reaches tha fuck into her neckline)  
I have one just like dat shit. Pete gave it ta mah dirty ass. 

 


	5. ACT FOUR

INT. 2911 ASHLAND STREET - NIGHT

 **SAM  
** Now dis all make slick sense. 

 **BALLARD  
** I be sorry?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yo ass see, Claire aint a vengeful spirit, she a thugged-out dirtnap omen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **BALLARD  
** Excuse me son?

 **SAM**  
Clairez not cappin' mah playas. Dat hoe tryin ta warn dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Yo ass see, sometimes spirits, they don't want vengeance, they want justice. Which is why dat freaky freaky biatch hustled our asses here up in tha straight-up original gangsta place. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch wants our asses ta know whoz ass her killa is.   
(beat)  
Detective, how tha fuck much do you know bout yo' partner?

 **BALLARD**  
(thinking)  
Oh mah god.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **BALLARD  
** On some year ago, some heroin went missin from lockup. Obviously dat shiznit was a cold-ass lil cop. We never found up whoz ass done did dat shit. But whoever done did it would need one of mah thugs ta fence they product.

 **SAM**  
Someone like a heroin deala n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some Muthafucka like Claire.   


  
EXT yo. HIGHWAY - NIGHT

  
SHERIDAN is rollin a armored van wit DEAN up in tha back.

 **DEAN  
** So I be bein extradited ta St. Louis, huh, biatch? And you just decided ta transfer me yo ass, eight hundred miles, biatch? At two up in tha morning, biatch? This can't be good.

EXT yo. HIGHWAY - NIGHT

BALLARD is rollin SAM down a similar stretch of road, finishin a cold-ass lil call on her beeper.

 **BALLARD  
** All right. Thanks.

 **SAM  
** What tha fuck iz it?

 **BALLARD  
** Pete just left tha precinct. With Dean.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **BALLARD  
** Dude holla'd tha prisoner had ta be transfered, n' he just took his muthafuckin ass. Dispatch has been callin but da thug won't answer tha radio.

 **SAM  
** Radio, biatch? Dude took a cold-ass lil county vehicle?

 **BALLARD  
** Yeah.

 **SAM**  
Well, then they should gotz a lo-jack, you've just gotta git it turned on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   


  
EXT. CLEARING - NIGHT

Da armored van pulls off tha road n' stops.

 **DEAN**  
Pizzle break, biatch? So soon, biatch? Yo ass might wanna git yo' prostate checked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!   
(SHERIDAN gets up n' circlez ta tha back.)  
Son of a funky-ass biiiatch.   
(SHERIDAN opens tha van.)  
Yo, I be def up in tha van, you go do what tha fuck you gotta do. 

SHERIDAN hauls DEAN up n' throws his ass ta tha ground.

 **SHERIDAN  
** Yo ass be a cold-ass lil cocky lil hustla of a funky-ass biiiatch. Yo ass be thinkin dem playas up in St. Louis is gonna loot dat crap you peddling, biatch? Herez tha thang. Yo ass aint gonna make it ta St. Louis. Yo ass is gonna take a thugged-out dirtnap tryin ta escape.

Dude pulls up his wild lil' freakadelic glock n' points it at DEAN'S head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN**  
Wait son! Wait. Let's, letz rap bout all dis bullshit. I mean, you don't wanna do suttin' dat you gonna regret later n' shit.   
(SHERIDAN cocks tha gun.)  
Or maybe you do.

 **BALLARD**  
(arriving)  
Pete biaaatch! Put tha glock down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Diana, biatch? How'd you find mah crazy ass son?

 **BALLARD  
** I know bout Claire.

 **SHERIDAN  
** I don't give a fuck what tha fuck you poppin' off about.

 **BALLARD  
** Put tha glock down!

 **SHERIDAN  
** Oh, I don't be thinkin so. Yo ass is fast. I be pretty shizzle I be fasta n' shit. 

 **BALLARD  
** Why is you bustin this?

 **SHERIDAN  
** I didn't do anything, Diana.

 **BALLARD  
** It aint nuthin but a lil late fo' all dis bullshit.

 **SHERIDAN  
** It wasn't mah fault. Claire was tryin ta turn me in, I had no chizzle. 

 **BALLARD  
** And Tony, biatch? Karen?

 **SHERIDAN  
** Same thang! Tony scrubbed tha scrilla, he gots skittish, n' then da thug wanted ta come clean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be shizzle tha pimpin' muthafucka holla'd at Karen every last muthafuckin thang.

DEAN glances at SAM, whoz givin his ass "How tha fuck do we git outta this" looks. DEAN shakes his head, SAM grits his cold-ass teeth. 

 **SHERIDAN  
** Dat shiznit was a mess; I had ta clean it up. I just panicked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **BALLARD  
** How tha fuck nuff mo' playas is gonna take a thugged-out dirtnap over this, Pete?

 **SHERIDAN  
** Therez a way out. This Dean kidz a gangbangin' friggin' gift. We could pin tha whole thang on his muthafuckin ass. Right, biatch? No trial, nothing. Just, just one mo' dead scumbag.

 **DEAN  
** Yo hommie!

SHERIDAN raises tha gun; DEAN backs off.

 **SHERIDAN**  
No one will question dat shit. Diana,. Biiiatch please.I still ludd you, biatch.  
(Bitch lowers tha gun.)  
Nuff props, biatch. Nuff props, biatch.

As tha pimpin' muthafucka turns back ta DEAN, BALLARD brangs her glock up n' fires, hittin SHERIDAN up in tha stomach yo. Dude goes down; DEAN rolls outta tha way.

 **BALLARD  
** Then why don't you loot me another necklace, you ass?

Dude tacklez her legs, knockin her down; she loses her glock n' SAM tries ta go fo' it yo, but SHERIDAN gets there first.

 **SHERIDAN  
** Don't do dat shiznit son! Don't do dat shiznit son!

BALLARD stares past SHERIDAN, whoz ass turns ta peep tha GHOST behind him, starin all up in her bloody hair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch smilez fo' realz. A gunshot goes off: BALLARD has recovered a weapon n' blasted SHERIDAN up in tha back yo. Dude goes down, mo' permanently dis time. 


	6. ACT FIVE

EXT. CLEARING - MORNING

BALLARD is kneelin by tha body of her late partner n' shit. Biatch gets up n' approaches SAM n' DEAN, standin nearby.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass doin' all right?

 **BALLARD  
** Not straight-up. Da dirtnap omen Claire. What happens ta her now?

 **SAM  
** Should be over n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch should be at rest. 

 **DEAN  
** So, uh. What now, fool?

 **BALLARD  
** Pete did confess ta mah dirty ass yo. Dude screwed up both yo' cases royally. I'd say dat there be a a phat chizzle dat we could git yo' cases dismissed.

 **SAM  
** You'd take care of dat fo' us?

 **BALLARD  
** I hope so. But tha St. Louis cappin' charges, biatch? Thatz another story. I can't help you, biatch. Unless... I just happened ta turn mah back, n' you strutted away. I could just tell dem dat tha suspects escaped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM  
** Wait, is you sure?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, her big-ass booty sure, Sam. 

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, itz just, I mean, you could lose yo' thang over suttin' like dis shit. 

 **BALLARD**  
Look, I just want you muthafuckas up there bustin what tha fuck you do best. Trust me, I be bout ta chill betta at night.  
(she turns ta go)  
Listen, you need ta peep yo' back. They're gonna be lookin fo' both of y'all n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do. Git outta here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I gotta radio dis in.

 **DEAN  
** Yo, uh, you wouldn't happen ta know where mah hoopty is, by chance?

 **BALLARD**  
It aint nuthin but all up in tha impound yard down on Robertson.  
(seein DEAN'S calculatin look)  
Don't... even be thinkin bout dat shit.

 **SAM  
** itz all gravy, itz all right, quit freakin' tha fuck out. We bout ta, uh, we'll just improvise. I mean, we pretty phat at all dis bullshit.

 **BALLARD  
** Yeah. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I noticed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

SAM n' DEAN strutt off down tha road.

 **SAM  
** Sick lady.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, fo' a cold-ass lil cop. Did she look familiar ta yo slick ass?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, why?

SAM shoves DEAN playfully.

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck fo' realz. Anyway, is you hungry?

 **SAM  
** No.

 **DEAN  
** For some reason I could straight-up go fo' some pea soup.


End file.
